


A Friend Throughout

by issaMorg



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: (An OC is abusive toward their spouse and the MC which is their child), (If either form of the mentioned abuse is not good for your mental health please do not read this), (No ganondorf is not abusive), Abuse, Domestic Violence, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Picking and choosing which canons wind up in this AU, Slow Burn, like a crock pot, no beta we die like men, they're kids right now there's no romance for a few more creative time skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 19:25:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18058577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issaMorg/pseuds/issaMorg
Summary: Even the king of darkness starts off as a child who only wants the best for his people.A story of how the Prince goes from being a child to a warlord, with the friend who understood his plight.





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> God I've been trying to write this story forever, hopefully the inspiration doesn't run away screaming.

“Dad! Dad, Aunties are here!”

 

Being close enough to the inn to hear the excited cries of the child was music to the troop’s ears. This town was one of the important stops in the unofficial trade route between the Gerudo’s fortress and the Castel Town of Hyrule. What would normally be considered an insignificant, fringe village to the Hylian people was a valuable water source and a well-priced rest for the warriors to trade with. 

 

What they could trade for here was remarkably fair in comparison to the prices they paid in the city. Sure, there was still a problem with the women folk looking down their noses at the desert warriors, but the men were useful to scratch an itch well enough- and closer than going all the way out to castle town to boot.

 

“Yes they are,” the girl’s father agreed, waving at the approaching warriors. “You should go tell your Uncle that Auntie Urvelia came to stop by. Wouldn’t that make him happy?”

 

The wide eyes and excited gasp of the little girl masked the snickers and playful pushing the warriors exchanged as they dismounted. Urvelia blushing while the little girl sped off, the woman’s sisters giving her grief for her long-standing rendezvous with the innkeeper’s brother. 

 

The farmer in question was a kind man, who had given Urvelia two healthy daughters so far. He would always make time to see her, while she was in town, giving her supplies and preserves he had made specifically to send with her when they eventually made their way back to the desert.

 

This time, though, the innkeeper noticed there was a new face among the women. “Ho there! Is this the young prince I’ve heard such high praise about?”

 

The man couldn’t’ve been much older than the innkeeper’s own daughter, maybe three years her senior, yet already there was an air of dignity to the boy. He curtly nodded, his voice clear and accentless, “Yes sir, I am Ganondorf Dragmire.”

 

The innkeeper bowed, a low, sweeping gesture, “I’m happy to have you here in my humble establishment, should that be-”

 

“Sage! Sage, where have you sent our daughter? She wasn’t finished peeling the vegetables!”

 

The man stood up with a put-upon sigh, smiling wryly at the group in front of him before walking through the door, “I sent her to get Basil my dear. Besides, I think I can manage to peel some vegetables in the meantime.”

 

The desert band knew where the stables lie, and brought their steeds to the familiar stalls. The little girl of the inn made a point to remember which stall was for which horse, each having the horses name written on it sloppily in childish handwriting.

 

Each woman lead their horse to a respective stall, removing the tack and brushing out the dust and dirt from the long journey so far. One of the women saw the mare that the prince rode into an open stall, helping him with the tack for the horse before returning to her own.

 

They chatted in their mother tongue, about the trip, about their plans, but mostly telling the newest to the crew about the town.

 

“<Watch for the innkeeper’s wife,>” Rhojela warned as she cleaned the hooves of her horse, “<mean as a moblin, that one. How she had such a sweet daughter is beyond me.>”

 

“<It’s that husband of hers!>” Bulooru laughs, “<The little girl is the spitting image of him. The man doesn’t have a mean bone in his body- if only I’d known him sooner. The man doesn’t deserve any of this.>”

 

“<If you’d known him sooner then there’d be no staying at this inn,>” Naraji warned, “<it’s his wife’s by her blood. If it was up to her, the old Crone wouldn’t let us stay even if the Hylian Royal Army enforced it!>”

 

The women all shared a good laugh at that, much to the young king’s confusion. What was funny about the prejudice against his people?

 

Either way, the group shouldered their bags as they headed towards the inn, chattering amongst themselves before a high-pitched ball of energy hurtled herself towards them.

 

“<Auntie, Auntie, Auntie!! Been long!>” the little girl cried as she attached herself to Urvelia’s leg.

 

The woman in question chuckled at the Hylian child’s antics, bending down to gather the child into her arms and rest her on her hip. “<It’s been a long time,>” she patiently corrected, tapping the little girl’s nose and sending her into a giggling fit.

 

“<It’s been a long time! Try to practice, but Uncle not best remember. Be here soon!>”

 

Ganondorf watched as one of the most fearsome warriors he knew patiently listened to the little girl babble about her day in his mother tongue. Turning to the warrior closest to him, which happened to be Bulooru, he asked, “<why does Urvelia care for the Hylian?>”

 

The woman looked at him with surprise before shaking her head, “<The girl is family to her daughters. Blood of their father’s blood. Besides, she is set to inherit this inn once her parents are too old and frail- would it not be beneficial to have a friendly face greet us here?>”

 

He was about to ask about that when they finally entered and he saw what she meant. Behind the bar was the kind man from before, but by one of the empty tables a thin, waspish woman scowled at the group. Turning her nose up at them, she took her tray and wet rag, walking back to the bar to push it into her husband’s arms. “You know our special, _seasonal_ rate when  **they** come to town,” she sneered. 

 

The prince frowned, himself. Yes, he was young, but even he could tell the way she addressed his people was like that of filth. His people were a proud race of warriors, survivors in a land with no mercy. With only the Sand Goddess to guide them, they persevered and adapted to the sandy wastes.

 

His people were not filth. 

 

People who thought they earned things given to them from birth?  That was filth.

 

He hadn’t earned the right to be the King of his people, but he would prove to them he was worth his birthright- worth thrice his weight in gold.

 

His musings were cut with the sound of a sharp slap echoing throughout the room, jerking his head up to see what had happened by the bar.

 

The kind man stood quietly, face jerked to the side and cheek already a vibrant red from the strike. “Would you care to say that again, dearest?” the woman crooned, her tone sickly sweet and dripping with venom.

 

“Gladly, my dear,” he said, forcing a smile as he turned to make eye contact. “I know of our seasonal rate, but  _ you _ know how much family pays when they stay here. The mother of my brother’s children is family.  _ Your  _ child’s Aunt is family.”

 

The wife didn’t seem to like the sound of that.

 

Not.

 

One.

 

Bit.

 

With squared shoulders and a look that promised retribution, she pulled off her apron and threw it on the counter. “I suddenly have a headache, dearest. You’ll handle everything tonight. Don’t try to come in, later- you’ll upset my nerves further.”

 

“Yes, my dear,” wasn’t even completely out of his mouth before the woman was gone, disappearing through the door behind the bar with a dramatic slam. With a sigh and a tender touch to the bruise beginning to bloom on his cheek, he gave the party at the front a legitimate smile. “Come on in, you’ve been going for too long to not get a decent night’s rest and a good meal.”

 

In Urvelia’s arms, the little girl wiggled to be let down. Acquiescing to her request, the little girl ran to the bar, climbing a stool to stand on the bartop. “Dad… Dad you can’t make her angry,” the little girl mutters, placing a hand on his bruise.

 

He leans into the touch, the warm glow of the candle light seeming to sharpen his features to show the bags under his eyes. “I’m sorry, angel, but sometimes grown-ups, even if we want to hide, we have to do what’s right- even if it hurts.” He took her hand off his face, kissing her nose and forehead before continuing, “but you aren’t a grown-up, and you remember your promise?”

 

“Keep myself safe and hidden, especially when she’s mad.”

 

“That’s my girl. Why don’t we get your Aunties some of the supper you and your mother were working on before you went and got your Uncle, hmm?”

 

At his daughter’s beaming expression and enthusiastic nodding, he lifted her from the bar and set her down, watching as she zipped into the kitchen to put some of the hearty stew in bowls.

 

Any questions that would’ve been asked of the innkeeper were stopped short by a man bursting into the inn, his eyes seeking out and settling on Urvelia. A wide smile split his face as he approached her, arms wide as she whooped and leapt into his embrace.

 

Not too long after that, the group was seated at the largest table in the back corner, the Farmer sitting next to Urvelia and doting on her as best he could. He seemed to know all of the women at the table, teasing and empathizing with them in equal measure.

 

The innkeeper and his daughter stopped by to chat when they could, but with the inn getting steadily more busy throughout the night they were able to stop by the table less. The prince watched as father and child worked in tandem to place orders (the child had a surprisingly good memory, though her pronunciation was wrong), clear tables, and otherwise man the floor. 

 

The realization that this duty falling to the two of them, even at her young age, was not one he thought he liked. At her age, his sisters and cousins played and learned practically. Here’s a voltfruit, here a hydromelon, this a durian; four hearty radishes, two hydromelons, one piece of meat. Not working a floor of busy patrons, which, arguably, seemed to be used to her and patient with her mistakes.

 

Either way, he watched as the night crept on, the inn emptying just as steadily as it had filled. In a cushioned chair by the bar, the little girl curled up, sleeping soundly as the chatter around her quieted from the dull roar. Eventually it was just their table and the innkeeper, slowly tidying up the inn for the night while his brother helped him.

 

After the two had finished, the innkeeper approached their table again, warm smile back in place as he handed keys to the women. “Your usual rooms, plus one more for the young prince. I wish you all a good night, you’re welcome to stay down here, but I must take my daughter back to her bed.”

 

There was a chorus of good night calls from his table as the man scooped his daughter into his arms, waved goodnight, and disappeared through the door behind the bar.

 

It was only after the women had shown him to his room, and pointed out which rooms each of them would be sleeping with (though he knew better than to knock on the door that Urvelia and the farmer were both in), and bidding him goodnight.

 

The young king spent some time in bed, that night. The mattress below was unlike the pillows he slept on back home. The walls and glass allowing no noise from outside to filter through, the room eerily silent.

 

Eventually exhaustion overtook him- it had been a long day on the road, after all, and even a prince had his limits.

 

A passing thought flicked through his mind just before he fell asleep- a minute observation that the bruising on the innkeeper’s face had disappeared by the end of the night. How?

 

He was asleep before he could even consider an answer.


	2. A Bond Grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince gets to know the innkeep's daughter a little more

There wasn't much for him to do when he woke before the rest of his people. He was used to waking before the sun, doing physical training before the heat of the day beat down on him and forced even the most dedicated warriors back inside. Times like that he would move to his magic training with Koume and Kotake, never a minute to rest as he scrambled to learn how to be the best king for his people.

 

After lunch he would learn his figures, the written language for the gerudo and hylians both, history, and just what it takes to keep the fortress running. It was a busy day, and it wore him out, but he would happily go above and beyond to help his people- he wanted better for them than just scavengers on the fringe of hyrule.

 

Digressing, he took the training swords he'd packed and headed out to train behind the stables- he didn't want to break anything inside the inn so as not to incur any further wrath from the innkeeper's wife.

 

He went through his stances, slowly speeding up and varying the order, mock-fighting faceless, imaginary soldiers with his twin blades before eventually moving to hand-to-hand.

 

He spent a fair bit of time like that, long enough for the sun to peak over the horizon and a fuss to kick up in the stable.

 

Wait, fuss in the stable?

 

Picking the wooden swords back up, he bolted around to the front of the stable, shocked to see the girl from before with the stall door for his horse open, and a carrot in front of the mare's nose.

 

“What are you doing with my horse?” he yelled as he stomped over, he wasn't going to let the Hylian hurt (or worse,  _ lose _ ) his horse, after all.

 

The girl didn't bother to turn as she addressed him, “shush, she's not happy. Gonna move her to a stall that's closer to the door.”

 

“You were going to just move my horse? By yourself? What if you lost her?” He couldn't help it if he sounded upset and incredulous- his horse was on the line!

 

The girl looked at him, still offering the carrot to the mare, offense written all over her features. “I wouldn't lose a  _ horse _ . ‘sides, I did that for all the Aunties horses, too. ‘s how they know which stall they like best.”

 

While her back was turned, the mare took full advantage of the girl's distraction and plucked the carrot from her grip, crunching contentedly on the treat as the Hylian made noises of protest before rounding on the boy. “Now look what you did! I can't sneak another carrot, Mother’ll kill me!”

 

The boy rolled his eyes, “you shouldn't have to bribe her since I'm here,” he explained to the younger of them, “she listens to  _ me _ .”

 

Face scrunched in the rage only a child can muster, the girl stomped past him and pointed at an empty stall before the doors. “This one. She wants to be here.”

 

The boy scoffed, closing the stall door and patting the mare's soft nose. “Why should I believe a little Hylian  _ vai _ over my own people? No, she'll be happy right here.”

 

The little girl's face morphed from grumpiness to shock at his response, quickly morphing back to anger before she called to him, “fine! See how she gets upset you big, big… stupid head!” and bolted off, running back to the inn.

 

The gerudo rolled his eyes, giving the horse one last stroke before heading back to his rooms. He needed to put his swords away, and grab some breakfast before he had to practice meditation.

 

He didn't see the girl again until lunch, at which time she was standing with her arms crossed by Urvelia, the adult looking somewhat indulgently at the Hylian. “<What do you say, little one?>”

 

The Hylian let out a very drawn out, exaggerated sigh, making eye contact with Urvelia (who raised a single brow) before turning back to Ganondorf. With one last sigh, she intoned a very rehearsed, “<I'm sorry I tried to move your horse without your permission. I understand it's rude to move other people's things, and I know I don't like it if people move my things. I should have thought about how I would want to be treated before I tried to move your horse. If I had lost her there would be no way for me to make it up to you.>”

 

He smirked at the expression on her face, the girl looking like she swallowed something extremely bitter, “<And what was that about my head?>”

 

Urvelia looked back down to the Hylian, her brow raising once again as the girl groaned and stomped a foot before she continued. “< _ And _ I'm sorry I called your head big and stupid,>” she begrudgingly finished before she turned back to Urvelia, “<can I go now, Auntie?>”

 

The woman looked at the prince, who nodded. She had nothing left to apologize for, after all, and frankly he didn't want her hanging around longer than she had to. 

 

At his nod, Urvelia smiled and the Hylian bolted, running down the stairs and back to the main room of the inn, going to charter at the rest of the group about who-knows-what.

 

Urvelia chuckled before looking back down to the prince. “<For all her being headstrong, she’s generally right about animals. Try moving your mare to that stall after your next archery lesson, she'll be happier and rest easier.>”

 

Looking up in shock, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, “<you  _ agree _ with her?>”

 

The warrior's face falls into a blank mask before she states, “<not with her approach, my prince, but the girl has a way of noticing things. Part of being a ruler is learning how to take listen and interpret the advice of the people around you. No matter the source, good advice is good advice- even if you don't like the source.>” Starting to walk down the stairs, she looked over her shoulder to leave some parting words with the boy, “<watch how she interacts with the world. See if you can see as she does.>”

 

With that cryptic response, she leaves the boy at the top of the stairs, standing there for a minute before tromping down behind her, grumbling, “<is every adult so confusing? When I grow up I’m gonna be right to the point.>”

 

Later, when he did have his archery lessons (which he excelled at, might he add), he thought on what the Hylian had pointed out to him.

 

Scoffing, he put his horse back in the stall she'd previously been staying in. What did some snot-nosed  _ vai _ know.

  
  


Meditation the next day was a bit harder than usual. He'd tried following the advice from the day before, but the girl did nothing that the average child didn't do. She was a very usual Hylian, probably, and just because she moved around the lights-

 

Wait.

 

Around the lights?

 

His brow furrowed as he fell more in tune with the minor magical energies all living things contained. The lights had different colors according to the natures of the beings in questions. The brighter the light, the larger and more intelligent the creature was.

 

An ant was a flicker, where his horse was a familiar bright blue. She wasn't as bright as the other horses in the stable, though… maybe the  _ vai _ did have a point.

 

Focusing back on the shining light of her person, he noticed she carefully walked around the lights of ants, avoided going over a mole's den. It could just be coincidence, he mused to himself. She could see signs naturally, and just act respectfully toward nature?

 

Yet a portion of his mind was focusing back on the horses- each stall picked carefully for a horse's best needs…

 

Shelving that thought, he went and ignored her- he had to focus on his own meditation, and this was not its intended focus…

 

_ Dark skies, his people shrieking in pain as they were cut down mercilessly. He was covered in deep wounds, they burned with agony and his blood fed the hungry sands of his home. He was helpless, exhausted and a single step from defeat, his people devastated by the Hylian Forces. _

 

_ In front of him a man in green, holding a sword he  _ **_knew_ ** _ caused him such pain, his face a stony mask as he stared at the defeated man in front of him. Atop a pristine, white horse sat a woman, one who looked down her nose at him as she sat amidst the carnage. Based on the odd amount of finery she brought to the desert, she could be nothing but the leader of the army wreaking havoc on his people. _

 

_ She looked blankly at him as she pulled a bow from her side, aiming at him and manifested golden, glowing arrows. He howled in pain as the arrows punctured his skin, leaving him pinned precisely where he had collapsed. _

 

_ “This is your punishment,” she stated in a voice that, were he a lesser man, would broker no argument. “For your crimes, you shall watch as your people are left in ruin. Then, and only then, will we allow you to die.” _

 

The young Prince jerked back into his consciousness, jerking out of his meditative state and becoming aware of the world around him once again. He frantically checked his arms, patting down his front as he tried to make sure… but he had been so wounded, bleeding so heavily.

 

Yet there were neither slices, nor arrows piercing his skin. He shuddered as he sat, knowing he'd need to get his magic back under control, but fearing the Unknown kept his magic coiled around him protectively, ready to lash out.

 

A soft knock at his door had his eyes snapping over there, his swords suddenly in his hands and a crack as his magic cuts a slash into the thick wood reinforce his command, “<Go  **_AWAY_ ** !>”

 

“<I'm coming in anyway!>” a familiar, annoying voice calls through the door.

 

His face is set in a grimace as the innkeeper's daughter steps in anyway, a tray in her arms as she kicks the door closed.

 

Her eyes widen as she traces the lines of his magic, swirling and writhing around him as his heart continues to race, chest heaving with breaths.

 

She slowly walked forward, placing the tray on his bedside table and speaking to him softly, “these are cookies and honeyed apples, Dad makes them for me on very special occasions but I thought you needed them more.”

 

Backing away from him, she wrung her hands and watched his magic idly, rocking in place as she thought what to do.

 

“<G'way,>” he grumbled as he eyed the food. They looked delectable, but she was nothing but a kid…

 

“<No. You need help,>” she stated adamantly.

 

He reached his arms out, gesturing to his form, “<I'm fine, I'm not hurt,>” he said, though it apparently wasn't convincing seeing her reaction.

 

“<I can get Auntie Urvelia in here, if that would be better, but you're hurting. Your magic thinks you're in danger. You shouldn't be alone.>” With each sentence she stepped forward, eventually laying a hand on his knee.

 

Immediately he felt a soothing warmth flowing through him, slowing his breathing out and slowing his heart from racing back to an acceptable speed.

 

He sagged as the adrenaline left his system numbly reaching out and taking one of the cookies. “<Healing magic?>” he asked, somewhat in awe.

 

From what Koume and Kotake had taught him, healing magic was  **_very_ ** rare. More commonly it was found in royal lineages (though even  _ then  _ it was rare), but every now and again a magic user would pop up with the skill.

 

She nodded, watching his magic relax and stop swirling a storm. “<Yes. I get plenty of practice with Mother,>” she scowled at that, but took her hand off his knee when his magic had relaxed as far as it would.

 

Nodding, she turned to leave, stopping when he yelped without thinking, “<Wait!>”

 

Turning back to him, a sadly knowing look was on her face, “<it's okay to not wanna be alone,>” she said, walking back and sitting next to him on his bed. “<Dad had to stay with me when Mother broke my arm on accident. She didn't know, which is good since that's when we discovered my magic.>”

 

He looked at her then, watched as the girl idly rubbed one of her arms as she kicked her legs. He sighed, passing her a cookie as he snagged some apple for himself. “<I guess I should tell you how I got found my magic, then,  huh.>”

 

She smiled at him, then, “<only if you want.>”

 

He raised a brow at that, “<you don’t want to know? Alr->”

 

“<I didn’t say I didn’t want to know!>” she exclaimed, a petulant expression on her face, “<I said only if you wanted,>” she added before sitting up straight, squaring her shoulders, and lowering her voice to mimic whoever told her, “<now Rosemary, if you want someone to like you, you need to respect their boundaries and not make them do what they don’t want to do.>”

 

He laughed at that, the  _ vai’s _ impression nothing if not humorous, “<and who gave you such sage advice?>”

 

She locked eyes with him, her expression full of excitement as she replied, “<How’d you know my dad’s name? He’s the one who gave me that advice!>”

 

This time, the Prince couldn’t help falling over from his laughing so hard, the laughter kicking up in intensity every time the girl prodded him and asked what was so funny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I haven't forgotten about this, and you get an update on my birthday.  
> Nah, work sucks and I'm doing my best to keep writing and chipping away at this. Next chapter is in the works- complete with a creative timeskip. Hooray!  
> Thank you again for continually reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't expect this to get popular or even for people to swing by, so if you read all the way to here- thank you!


End file.
